


Electric Lullaby

by way1203



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Arguing, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Gen, Insomnia, Lullabies, Male-Female Friendship, Meddling TARDIS, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Sleep Deprivation, Twelfth Doctor Era, Twelve playing guitar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-29
Updated: 2017-12-29
Packaged: 2019-02-23 10:32:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13188240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/way1203/pseuds/way1203
Summary: The Doctor discovers you haven't been sleeping and attempts to make it better the only way he knows how—with a lullaby.





	Electric Lullaby

**Author's Note:**

> Popped into my head after the Christmas special and I had to write it out. Can be read as friendship or romance, whichever you prefer.

"You're doing it again."

"What?"

"That thing when your face scrunches up and you look like you're vomiting a lemon. Don't do that."

"Doctor!"

You'd spent most of the day at Ryctorn, a planet full of amphibian people who were in danger of losing their food source. You'd talked to a few of the Ryctorians, and immediately felt empathy for them. Then the Doctor told you it was time to leave. As he started the TARDIS, the Doctor decided to share that this was their last day to live. Their planet would be destroyed by the race also responsible for wiping out their food source.

The Doctor pressed a button and turned a dial. "You made them very happy in their final moments if that's any consolation."

You stared up at him.

"Oh, come on, now. Don't start with the eyes."

"We can't do anything for them? Om and his wife, Tegg, their kids, Img and Odge. What about them, Doctor? All of them are just gone? Just like that?"

"It's a fixed point in time. It can't be changed."

"Anything can be changed," you countered. "We've done it before."

"Not this time."

"And I'm supposed to be okay with it?"

"That was the agreement when I brought you along."

"We never made an agreement. Why would you show me a doomed planet if there was nothing we could do to help?"

He said nothing.

"Why won't you do something?"

"I told you I can't!"

You headed off to your room with a shake of your head. "You're horrible, Doctor."

That was hours ago. You tossed and turned beneath the duvet. With sleep nowhere near you, it became increasingly clear that it likely wouldn't happen at all tonight. Or was it morning? Circulating in space was still new to you and you hadn't managed to develop normal sleeping patterns just yet. Sometimes the TARDIS landed in the daytime for that period or planet. Other times, it would be evening. Once it was afternoon in 2207 on a planet called Yrm, and the Doctor had to nudge you awake at least three times before he decided you needed to get back to bed. He nearly had to drag you back onto the TARDIS. Only then did the Doctor mention that some people had difficulties adjusting during the first couple of weeks on the TARDIS. Counting today, you'd been on ten adventures over the course of what felt like a week and a half. You hoped that for the sake of your sleep schedule you were closer to two.

After wrapping yourself in a throw blanket, you shuffled down the hall to the console room. You thanked the old girl for making the path direct this time—most days you had to navigate at least three hallways. You stared down at him from the balcony. There he was. That hoodie-wearing, furious-eyebrowed, stubborn owl stood at the controls, the warm light of the rotor outlining his figure. His back was to you, but you could tell by his posture that he was deep in thought as he studied a screen with swirling dots.

"I thought I sent you to bed."

The Doctor didn't face you, and for that, you were almost grateful. You were cross with each other which meant that it was for the best that neither of you made eye contact with the other. You stifled a yawn. "You didn't. I sent myself."

"So you came down here to continue arguing with me?" he snapped.

"No!" You tightened your blanket around you as though it were a shield. You avoided confrontation at all costs, and only got venomous when you felt as though you were backed into a corner. In traveling with the Doctor, you were forced to defend yourself much more often. You bit back against beings from other planets and—occasionally—the Doctor himself. You often found his lack of empathy particularly irritating. "Look, I didn't come down here to argue. I did it because I couldn't sleep."

The Doctor whirled around. " _Still_?"

"Yeah." You picked at a thread on your blanket to avoid his pointed stare. "Sleep hasn't exactly come easy."

After a moment, he turned back around. You started to go down the stairs, but thought better of it and stopped to sit on the steps instead. The Doctor ran a hand through his messy grey curls. He frowned and flipped a switch which caused the TARDIS to emit a groan.

"What time is it back home?" you asked.

"About three in the morning."

"So much for going to bed at a decent hour."

He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. "Try counting the stars on the ceiling in your room. There's exactly 1,279, I believe. Well, at least that's what she says."

Suddenly, a lever on the opposite side of the Doctor shifted downward. The TARDIS lurched, nearly tossing you and the blankets down the remaining steps. She made a few small noises and the movement of the box seemed to become even more gentle. The Doctor attempted to shift the lever back to its original position but the TARDIS wouldn't let him. In fact, she argued with him using high and low pitched noises. The Doctor’s frustration grew.

"Fine!" he shouted.

"What's going on?"

"I'm slowing her down a bit. Seeing as how you can't sleep, I figured it wouldn't hurt to drift for a while."

You scoffed. "You mean, _she_ thinks we should drift for a while because I can't sleep."

"That seems to be the case." The Doctor slipped his guitar strap over his head and shifted the Stratocaster around to his front. He clicked on his amp. "You look like hell."

"And on that note," you stood. There was no way you were going to stay down here if he was going to be an arse.

"Stop. What I meant is that you look exhausted. We had a busy day on Ryctorn, and it's apparent on your face. Now sit back down."

"Why should I?"

"Will you just do as you're told?" The Doctor noticed your expression and sighed. "I'm sorry, alright? If nothing else, just stay to listen." He strummed twelve notes of a gentle tune before stopping. It sounded familiar, yet you couldn't put your finger on what it was. He fixed you with a look. "Will you stay?"

You reluctantly sat back down and fixed him with a glare. "Fine."

"Thank you."

Something felt off. He'd apologized, wanted to play for you, and nearly begged you to stay. Then there was his initial reaction to your sleeplessness. It was strange, definitely much too generous and considerate of him given the fights you'd had earlier. You furrowed your brow, "Why are you doing this?"

"We've been very busy lately. Not to mention your sleeping habits have been so questionable that I've contemplated adding a sleeping agent to your tea."

You bristled. "Well, now I know who's definitely _not_ making me tea ever again!"

He rolled his eyes. " _Contemplated_. I said _contemplated_. I didn't actually do it. I forgot how snippy you get when you're tired."

"I'm not snippy!"

"My point exactly." The Doctor moved toward you, his fingers walking around the frets and up and down the neck as he continued playing. Now it was starting to bug you. What _was_ that song? "You need sleep."

" _I know that_ ," you pressed. "I'm trying, but it's hard."

"It's rather easy, isn't it? You're just making it hard for yourself."

You lifted your eyebrows. "What? How am I making it hard for myself?"

"You humans keep your mind so full and overstimulated all the time. You can't sleep without noise or buzzing, whether it's outside or in your own head."

"Doctor—"

"Shut up." The Doctor walked up the steps and sat beside you, the music still flowing from the Stratocaster. "Just be quiet and listen."

You recognized it now as Brahms Lullaby. You couldn’t help but smile. "A lullaby? Doctor, really? That's supposed to make me—"

He shushed you as he repeated the song for the third time. The Doctor's playing was always enjoyable, but it was particularly comforting at the moment. You yawned.

"Getting tired?" he asked.

"Shut up."

"I take that as a yes."

You rested your head against his shoulder. "I'm not a child, Doctor."

"I didn't say you were." He glanced down at you with a grin. "There's nothing wrong with enjoying light music before bed."

Between the soothing lights of the TARDIS, the electric lullaby, and the Doctor's shoulder, you began to relax. You slowly shut your eyes. It wasn't like you'd actually go to sleep, you'd just sit here and enjoy the music until the Doctor decided he'd had enough of playing lullabies. Or at least that's what you told yourself before you finally drifted off. You started when he said your name.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you. I just wanted to apologize...for earlier. You were right. I am horrible. Someone, well more than one someone, told me that I should never be alone and this is why. I have to be reminded sometimes. I have to have someone like them, like you, to stop me from being horrible. I'm sorry."

"It's okay," you muttered. "Everyone...mistakes. M'Sorry too."

The Doctor chuckled and returned his fingers to the strings. "Go back to sleep."

"...Doctor?"

"Hm?"

"Thank you."


End file.
